Texas Wonderland
by Wolfhound159
Summary: The sequel to Arctic Wonderland. Red John's back. He's taken Lisbon. He's taken Lisbon, who's pregnant with Jane's child. How far is Jane going to go to get her back? How far is Jane going to go to make sure she's safe in his arms again?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jane's hand trembled as he held the sonogram. _**Not possible,**_ his mind raced with a multitude of ideas, not all of them good. _**NOT POSSIBLE.**_

"Lisbon," He whispered, setting the sonogram on the table. He ran a hand through his hair. _**He can't be back, HE CAN'T. I killed him.**_

A shrill ringing broke the uneasy silence. He glanced at the caller ID, and gulped down the creeping of fear before he answered.

"Hello, Patrick." A guttural hiss mocked him, "I hope I wasn't missed _too_ terribly."

Jane felt his skin crawl when he registered the voice. "How are you still alive? I killed you."

"Did you?" He sneered, "Did you really?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"You of all people should know that I have many connections all around. You did quite a number on me, Patrick. I still have the marks of your hands on my throat. You'll pay a price for that, I'm afraid."

"Where's Lisbon?"

"She's such a sweet person, isn't she?" the taunting laugh could be heard in his voice, "She's foolish too. Brave and foolish to think that she could possibly be anywhere near safe with you."

"You leave her alone," He growled against his tears.

"You're in no position to threaten me, Patrick. Not when the fate of your little doll and child rest in my hands." A bloodcurdling laugh resonated through the speakers of the phone. "My, My. Isn't this taking you for a stroll through memory lane? I'm sure all of this must seem eerily familiar for you, my friend. The fate of your loved ones in the palm of my hands. The blood of your girl and your child in my grasp."

"You took everything from me. What more do you want from me?"

"Now we're on the right track. I want you to suffer, Patrick. I want you to pay for ruining my legacy."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I was a God. I was admired. I was feared. I was loved. You poisoned it. With your words. With your damning actions. With your meddling. You ruined my name. You ruined everything I built from the ground up. I'm going to make you pay. I'm going to make you suffer by hurting your little girlfriend. She will call out for you. She will _scream in pain._ She will scream for your help. And you will never come for her. You couldn't protect her. You couldn't defend her. And _that_ will be your punishment." There was a small hesitation, "For now, at least."

"No." He spoke softly, terrified, "Don't. Not her. Please."

A cackling laugh reverberated through the phone, making it difficult for Jane to determine which was trembling worse, the phone or his hand. He heard Lisbon whimper, pleading for them to stop, before screaming out his name in pain. He opened his mouth, to call out to her, but Red John had hung up.

 _ **Lisbon.**_ Her name echoed through his skull. _**Lisbon, I'm so sorry.**_ Tears poured out of his eyes, as he shut them tight. He slowly sat on the ground as his tears fell faster. _**Lisbon.**_ He felt useless. Incompetent. _**It's my fault. It's all my fault. He has her. He's hurting her. And it's all my fault.**_ He wiped away his tears angrily as he stood up.

"No." He spoke out loud to no one in particular. "I'm going to get her back. I'm not going to just sit here and let her get hurt because of me."

He moved to the computer, glancing at the framed photo of her and the old CBI team that was set on the desk. He smiled softly, whispering, "I'm going to get you back, Teresa. I'm so sorry I caused this. I promise you, I'm going to fix it. I'm going to get you back."

He logged on, typing determinedly as he entered the old program Van Pelt had showed him once. He wrote down the jumble of rambled numbers and waited as the program beeped with the trace. He only hoped that he wasn't too late. He leaned back against the chair, running a still trembling hand through his mess of curls.

"Come on," He muttered under his breath, "Don't fail me now."

He gave out an airy chuckle as the program finished, flashing the location in big red letters. He jotted it down, not trusting his memory to commit it to memory. Not when his nerves are frayed and shot. He rushed his way out of the house, and stopped. He looked back, before walking into the kitchen and picked up the sonogram once more. She was pregnant. With his child. Their child. That's what she wanted to tell him. That's why she wanted to talk about their relationship. That's why she had doubts about him. About them.

He got a cotton ball and doused it in rubbing alcohol, turning back to the sonogram. With trembling hands, he rubbed the smiley away, blowing softly on the picture before putting away the alcohol and setting the picture in his wallet for safekeeping until he got her back. Until he got them back. Until he rescues his family.

He walked out of the house, locking it with her keys, and rushed to his car. He got in, set the location on the dashboard, and started the car. He drove with a fury he hadn't felt in a long time. He drove with his fists clenched so tight, it seemed as if they were screwed onto the steering wheel. His jaw was set so tightly, his teeth were developing stress fractures. He arrived to the location in 10 minutes when it would've and should've taken him 25. He got out of the car, and walked up to payphone where the call was traced. The receiver was hanging off of the hook.

Jane grimaced softly as he set it back. He looked around, trying to find something that might lead him to her. He was about to leave when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glistening object. He walked towards it, kneeling down before it. It was a video camera. He picked it up, not caring about prints, because what else were they going to prove except that Red John was back? He pressed play and held his breath.

Lisbon's screams were heard, but all that was able to be seen was black. There was a moment of silence, only her ragged breaths were heard. That's when the screen was flooded with light. As it focused, Lisbon's face was clear. She was tied to a chair, her body filled with bleeding cuts and bruises. There was a bloody knife. It moved closer to Lisbon, piercing through the skin on her thigh and going deeper and deeper until it started to carve into muscle and bone. She groaned, whimpering softly. Her tears were falling down her cheeks, splashing onto her lap and mixing in with blood. It was only a matter of time when the pain got so excruciating that a scream escaped out of her blood splattered lips. The frame went dark, but the only thing that was visible, was the smiley face again, but it was painted with fresh blood. Lisbon's blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Jane.** His name was the first thing that raced through Lisbon's mind. Her eyes snapped open, only to cringe at the harsh light shining into her pupils. She looked around, spinning her neck softly to check for injuries. There was a harsh sting from the side of her neck. She became aware of the rope biting into her wrists and ankles. Her back ached from the uncomfortable chair she was tied against. She tried to call out, but noticed she was gagged with a dirty rag.

 **Where am I?** She wondered softly, looking around. It looked as if she was in a basement. The windows were splashed with black paint, however there were parts where the person missed and the light shined through it, illuminating the damp cellar. She tried to look through the slits, but the window was so filthy, that even if it wasn't painted, she wouldn't be able to see any distinctive landmark to try to locate herself. Her body hurt and ached all over. Her throat burned with the amount of screaming she did. She hated herself for being weak, but she pushed it aside. She had to focus on getting out.

 **Jane.** Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. **He must be going crazy with self loathing and guilt.** She sent a small prayer that he was handling things well, and not going into a crazy spiral of revenge.

 **How am I going to get out?** She asked herself, eying the ropes. She nudged the gag off of one side of her chin by nudging and rolling it down with her shoulder. When she went to nudge the other side off, but her neck stung so harshly, she pulled away in pain. She let a small whimper escape her throat before she pushed the pain away and forced herself to roll the rag down.

 **Could I bite my way out of the ropes?** She bent down to one of her wrists, her teeth wrapping around the tightly wound strands and starting to grind against them. She had to stop a couple of times to spit out straw and give her teeth a bit of a break. She wasn't used to using them against anything that wasn't food, and they ached as she put pressure on them. She looked down at her wrist, and estimated that she had chewed through almost 1/3rd of her way out.

 **This is hopeless.** She growled to herself in frustration. She stopped when she heard a car door slam shut, the front door squeaking open. She cursed silently as she tried to use sudden bursts of force on the rope she had started to chew through. After 5 tries, they snapped loudly, slipping off of her wrist and down to the floor. She stared at her wrist with a total look of horror.

"What was that?" She heard a voice ask above her. She panicked, undoing the knot of the other hand as quickly as she could before bending down and untying her ankles. She stood on wobbly legs, the blood starting to rush down, stinging the wounds on her thighs. Instantly, the pricking pain of pins and needles took over the numb feeling in her legs, and she groaned softly with the pain. She stood there for almost 2 minutes before she regained the control of her legs.

She flinched when the front door slammed again, and moments later, a car screeched away. She let go of the breath she didn't know she was holding. She looked around once more, before walking towards the door. She tried it, but it wouldn't budge.

She sighed exhausted, **Locked.** Normally, she'd kick it down, but she was in so much pain, she didn't have the energy to bust out. She looked around, smiling when she found a machete. Grabbing it, she felt her grip waver. **Am I really that weak right now?** She pushed herself forward, using her momentum to slam the machete into the wood, splintering it. She swung again, glad that no one was hearing the earsplitting cracks and crunches of metal on wood. The last swing spider webbed the wood, making it splinter forward towards the frame. She let the machete slip from her fingers, and used force to slam her shoulder squarely on its center to splinter it open wide enough for her to crawl out of it.

Walking out into the hallway, she instantly noticed that the building was an unfurnished abandoned residence. She walked towards where she thought she heard the front door, keeping her body close to the walls, instinct of hers when walking in an unknown and high risk location. She instantly noticed tally marks against the frame of one of the doors. Looking around to make sure she was alone, she bent down to examine them.

Her fingers softly traced the ink on the wood. She realized they were to measure the growth of a child. She counted up to age 8 before they stopped. A name scribbled beside it. **Scarlett.**

She stood, walking towards the door, when she heard the car once more. She looked out through the curtains to see McAllister slamming the door shut as he stepped out. At this moment, she regretted dropping the machete. She watched as he pulled out a duffel bag from the trunk and walked by the side of the house. When she heard doors creaking open and slamming closed behind the house, she opened the front door, and started to run.

She ran as fast and as much as her legs could carry her. She ran till her legs burned and ached. She ran, until she was so out of breath that the world started to jump up towards her. She stopped, hiding against the wall of an alleyway, while she caught her breath. Her lungs heaved and her breaths were deep. She looked around, trying to locate someway she can communicate with Jane. Someplace to hide out from Red John. She saw an elderly couple walk by, and taking one last look around, she stopped them, softly.

"I'm Teresa Lisbon. I'm an agent for the FBI. I was kidnapped and my phone was broken. If you have one, may I use it to call my partner?" She spoke as articulately as she could, her vocal cords straining to push the words out of her mouth.

They nodded, handing over the phone. She thanked them softly, dialing Jane's number from memory, her fingers trembling as she pressed the buttons. She hesitated slightly before starting to call him, cradling the phone to her ear.

"McAllister, if you hurt Teresa again, I will hunt you down and make sure you stay dead." Jane's voice filled the receiver, angrily. There was a hint of worry. Of pain. Years of working alongside of him, gave her the ability to detect that small pain in his voice.

Tears fell from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, "Patrick?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Tidbit:**

 **The Street names actually exist in Texas. It was chosen at random. More comping soon.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Jane felt his heart skip a beat before starting to hammer in his chest.

"Teresa," He breathed out. His voice losing all of the anger and hatred in an instant. He whispered her name, as if just her, just the mere _mention_ of her name could fix the problem they found themselves in. "Teresa, where are you?"

She looked around, wiping away the tears that fell from her eyes. His voice brought her a sense of hope, of belonging, of longing... of home. She focused, peering at the street corner sign before turning her attention back to the phone call.

"I'm at the corner of 8th avenue and Upton street." She told him quickly, "Patrick, I escaped, but I may not have much time."

"Teresa, I need you to find someplace to hide. I'm on my way."

She could hear the engine roaring to life, the tires screeching over the asphalt.

"Are you hurt badly?" He asked softly, dreading the answer to that.

"I'll survive."

Something caught her eyes, something moving in her line of sight. She looked at the couple in front of her, starting to raise their hands, palms facing her. She noticed they weren't looking at her, they were looking behind her. She didn't have time to turn around when she felt the gun position itself between her shoulders.

"Hand it over, Teresa." The voice hissed at her, digging the gun into her skin for emphasis that he wasn't playing around. He stretched his hand, setting it on her shoulder, his fingers curling out towards the phone.

Her heart thundered while her eyes lowered softly. She placed the phone in his palm, flinching softly when he grabbed at the device, pulling away from her quickly. He set the phone to his ear, a gleam in his eyes.

"Quite a sly fox you have here, Patrick." He taunted.

"Let her go, McAllister." Jane ordered.

"She's almost good enough to bring her into our mind games." He smiled, " _ **Almost.**_ You've taught her well."

"You don't have to do this."

"No, I don't." He smiled, "But I want to."

Immediately, he lifted the gun over Lisbon's shoulder, pulling her close sharply by the other hand with the phone. He aimed and fired twice, killing the couple before he let the phone fall, smashing it with his foot.

"No!" Lisbon shouted, her eyes widening in shock as she saw their bodies fall to the ground, blood erupting from the wound and spewling out like a volcano.

"I must admit," He said, wrapping his arms around her waist before lifting her up and carrying her to the car, tightening his grip as she started to kick and squirm. "I didn't think you would escape that quickly."

"Let me go!" She screamed, trying to get attention towards them. Trying to get someone to notice that she needed help. "Please!" Her voice was filled with the tears and fears she had tried so hard to suppress. She sobbed as the next words escaped from her. "You can't do this."

"Honey," He responded, pushing her into the van and smiling as she fell on it's wide floor. "I already have."

She looked on in horror as he slid the door closed, locking her in the dark, rectangular interior of the van. Everything was steel, and there was absolutely no place where she can escape or anything she could use to defend herself. She tried to gauge where she was located as McAllister drove her away as a captive from the scene of the crime, but the roar of the engine and the overpowering smell of gasoline left her light-headed. The sharp turns that sent her sprawling towards the harsh steel of the floor, only increased her disorientation.

XXXXXX

Jane drove as fast as he dared, earning a couple of patrollers following him, their sirens blaring loudly. He ignored them. The only thing that resonated through his head was the two gunshots that blared through the phone speakers. He felt hot tears trail down his cheeks, but he ignored that as well.

"Lisbon," He whispered, turning onto the street she told him about, "Please, don't be dead."

He pulled up to the crime scene, rushing out of the car and ducking under the obnoxiously cheery yellow police tape while flashing his FBI Consultant tag and running towards the bodies. He glanced at them before taking a shallow, shaky breath and falling down to his knees in anguish. He was glad that Lisbon's body wasn't one of the ones that were being carried away, but he hated himself. Because that meant, she's back under his grip. Under his control. It meant, that she wasn't safe.

Running a hand through his curled hair, he stood, pushing past the cops that were chasing after him, before he got into his car. He drove away, trying to determine where Lisbon came from and where he took her.

XXXXXX

 **Obviously,** Lisbon thought to herself, **He isn't stupid enough to take me back to the first location.** She's been trapped in the moving darkness for over 3 hours. From what she could determine. She hasn't eaten since 3 hours before she was first kidnapped a couple days ago and she was severely parched. Her throat begged her for something refreshing to drink, burning from all of her screaming. She knew how long she would last before she died of famine or thirst, and knew there was a possibility she wouldn't last that long.

She froze as she felt the car slow down to a stop. Her heart thundered inside of her chest as she listened to the front door slamming closed and heard the crunching of gravel telling her he was walking towards the door. She wondered if she could overpower him. Shuffling towards the back of the van on her hands and knees, she rested against one of the corners. She blinked against the harsh flood of light suddenly entering the room with the loud slam of the sliding door opening. A small whimper left her before she controlled it, rubbing at her eyes. She blinked rapidly, seeing the black outline of a man boarding the van. He walked closer to her, tilting his head to the side. Her eyes were focused on the glistening blade as it adjusted to the light. With a quick look to his face, which was useless, as the light blocked any attempt to see anything on him except utter darkness, she let him take another step closer.

Taking a deep breath, she lunged at him, aiming for his shoulders, knocking him down. She gripped the hand that held the knife and while using quick brute force, she dug the sharp blade up his jaw. Shining red liquid spilled onto her hands, shirt, and face when the knife sliced into his brain. The choking sound that filled the air brought guilt slamming into Lisbon. She stood, looking at her hands, before coming to her senses and running towards the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

 **I want to thank all of you who are taking your time to read this. I apologize if I am annoying or hurting or upsetting any of you with the Red John story line. He was a frustrating villain, and one of the cockiest and best. I cannot make any promises, nor can I reveal much about this story, but I am writing this as a small warning (the bigger, easily seen, warning will be on the next chapter) that the next chapter might have certain elements that might upset or trigger anyone of you. If you are sensitive to any trigger words, or any uncomfortable situations that might cause nightmares or panic attacks, I highly urge you to skip the next chapter. Please. I don't want any of you to get hurt because of me and the things I write.**

 **Thank you all. Yours truly,**

 **Wolfie**

 **(Wolfhound159)**

* * *

Chapter 4

Lisbon peered into the darkness. She set her feet down, glancing at them as they crunched on brown curled shells and gravel. She tilted her eyes up, observing the night sky above her, slightly illuminated by stars and hazy street lamps. **Is it really this late?** She thought to herself. With a quick side turn of her head towards the van, she took a deep breath of the fresh air and started to walk, adjusting her jacket on her shoulders.

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP. Lisbon froze in terror. **NO** _ **.**_ She turned, taking a couple of steps back as she faced the object of the sound.

"Impressive handling that brute of a man for me." McAllister, gleamed at her, lowering his hands. "I didn't need him anymore and was almost worried you wouldn't be able to take him on. You proved me wrong, Teresa. I see why Patrick fancies you."

She bolted, her legs turning and pushing her as much as they could to get her away. She heard a puff of wind explode from behind her, only to experience a sharp, piercing, sting on her right shoulder. She slowed to a stop, glancing at where the pain came from, only to see a small metallic tranquilizer dart. She looked at McAllister, only to see him walking closer to her with a big gun. A strange numbness radiated from her shoulder, washing over her. She felt as if she was losing control of her body, as her heart slowed down and her eyelids became heavy.

"Now," He crooned, wrapping an arm around her waist while the other held the gun. He pulled her close, sharply, as he rested her weakening body against him. She tried to fight, but her arms and legs felt more and more like cement. "You didn't really think I was going to let you get away so easily, did you?"

She lost consciousness, her body falling into to his arms. He carried her to a black chevy sedan that was on the opposite side of the truck and rested her by the trunk of it. Once he opened the trunk, he pulled out the only objects in there, her police handcuffs and zip ties. He put away the keys to the handcuffs, sliding them into his pocket for now. He zip tied Lisbon's wrists, pulling them tight enough that they bit and cut into her skin. He moved lower, dragging his hands down her body leisurely until he reached her ankles and zip tied them together as well. He picked up her body, placing her in the trunk and slamming it closed and locking it before he sat in the driver's seat and drove off, crossing Texas border into New Mexico.

"Estimated," the map app on his phone chirped, "16 hours and 50 minutes to Sacramento, California."

XXXXXX

"What do you mean you **can't** find her?" He growled at Wylie, who looked at him eyes bulging in fright, "Just look through the security cameras to find the car that took her!"

"I-i-it's not that easy, J-Jane." He stuttered helplessly, "There were no security cameras at the crime scene and anything else is purely speculative."

"Then get to work!"

"Jane!" Cho shouted at him, pulling him away from Wylie and dragging him to the break room. "What's wrong with you? We're doing the best we can to get her back."

"You're not doing enough."

"We're doing what we can! She was important to us all, Jane. We're going to get her back, if it's the last thing we do."

Jane nodded, his body revealing his exhaustion. "You can't."

"Why can't we?"

He steeled himself, his face suddenly serious and his eyes unrevealing. "Because the one who took her is Red John."

"What?" Cho could hardly believe what he heard. He blinked, trying to understand if he heard Jane correctly.

"Red John kidnapped Lisbon."

"That's not possible." He spoke, "You **killed** him. Didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then how could he have _possibly_ taken Lisbon?"

"I don't know." He spoke, turning from Cho, heading towards the elevator. "But I don't really care."

XXXXXX

Lisbon woke up with a stir, blinking to try to get her eyes adjusted to the pitch black darkness. She felt her wrists and ankles burning as her nerves slowly started to awaken. In a matter of moments, her stomach started to revolt, her nausea increased as she noticed she's in a moving car. She swallowed down the bitter vile that creeped up the back of her throat.

 **How long was I out?** She asked herself. **Where is he taking me?** She twisted to try to find the ridge of one of the rear lights. Setting her foot in position, she braced herself and kicked with all of the strength and momentum she could muster. An earsplitting shattering crash resonated through the small area. She turned, crawling to where she kicked and examined it. It was curved away from her and dislocated in one corner. She used her elbow to strike at the cave in, hitting it again and again until a loud pop was heard before the crash of it falling to the road outside. She blinked at the harsh light flooding into eyes, rubbing at them.

She looked around, focusing on the names of the billboards on the opposite side of traffic to try to locate where she was. She noticed that the driver behind McAllister's car noticed her. She stuck her hands out, waving them. Lisbon smiled when she saw it worked, that the driver, a young male driver with short hair and dark sunglasses, noticed. He drove to McAllister's side, pointing towards the trunk, before driving off. McAllister turned off of the highway and into a car junkyard.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she felt the engine stop and the door slam closed. She pushed herself away from the door, just as McAllister opened it. He dragged her out of the trunk by her tied wrist and slammed her into the floor before dragging her across shards of glass. She winced as they sliced her back, digging into her skin. He pushed her into the backseat of a wine red Volkswagen jetta. He handcuffed her to the metal bar of the passenger's headrest before lighting a cigarette only to burn her with it.

"If you try that again," He warned her, grabbing her chin forcing her to face him, "I will kill that child quicker than you can say 'whoops'."

He got back into the driver's seat and continued to drive. Lisbon watched in terrified silence as with each hour, she got farther from Jane and closer to California. She couldn't believe it when she saw him pull up to the building. Tears fell from her eyes as she recognized Jane's old house looming in the dusk.


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNING:**

 **This chapter has triggering situations. If you are prone to triggering situations, please skip this chapter or proceed with caution. Please do what you think is best for yourself. Don't worry if you feel like you "have to" read it. You don't. Please don't do anything that will cause you harm. That is the least I want from any of you.**

 **Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Red John sat in the car silently, as he took in the sight of the house. It had been more than a decade since he was here. A half smirk crept up his mouth with the thought of why he's here. He looked at Lisbon through the rear mirror, before shutting off the engine and getting out. He opened her door and uncuffed her. He dragged her out, wrapping his arms around her from behind when she stood. He started to walk towards the house, pushing her forwards. Lisbon started to fight, digging her elbows into his abdominal. He wrapped his hands around hers, and with a strong push to the back of her body and a pull of her hands, he sent her flying towards the gravel on her back. He grabbed her ankles and dragged her towards the house, as he dug in his pocket for the key. He raced up the steps, smiling as she thumped behind him, each thump accompanied by a small puff as the wind got knocked out of her. He opened the door, grabbing a fistful of her hair and lifting her up on her feet.

"Hear that?" He gleamed, looking around before turning to face her, "It's the tiger on the prowl, and tonight, you're on the menu."

He cackled as he pushed her deeper into the house. He slammed the door, locking it, turning towards her in a snarl. He picked her up, carrying her up the stairs, narrowly dodging her flails as she tried to get away. He noticed she was weaker, and smiled, with the realization that starvation and dehydration worked wonders on strength and will. Lisbon was a bit more strong willed than the others, and that might make his plan all the more difficult to plan out, but it shouldn't deter it much.

XXXXXX

Jane was in the Airstream. He was opening the secret compartment, the one he made above the refrigerator when he got the trailer, and pulling out the old shoebox. He lifted the lid, taking out the unregistered gun and slipping it under his shirt in the back of his trousers, and setting the shoebox back.

An alert on his phone brought him out of his mind where he was currently planning how the scene was going to go down. He looked at his screen, a text from Van Pelt reporting that there was a report of a supposedly kidnapped woman on I-10, who was in a black Chevy 2012 sedan. They found the car left abandoned in a junkyard and in the trunk they found fragments of glass, and partial traces of blood and hair.

He texted Grace back, saying, "Thanks for this info. Please keep me informed of when they test it, and if it matches Teresa's DNA or not. Good luck with the kids and Rigsby."

He grabbed the keys, racing towards the car, **_how could I be so stupid and not realize it sooner?_** He reprimanded himself harshly, **_He's targeting me. Of course it's obvious he's going to the house._** He started the car, flooring the gas pedal as he got onto I-10. While paying at the toll, he counted how long it will take him to reach the house. He gritted his teeth as the numbers flashed in his brain, 22 hours and 8 minutes. **_That'll just have to be a record I_** **have to** ** _beat._**

XXXXXX

Lisbon's screams echoed through the empty house. She was tightly handcuffed to the floor by her wrists and had chains set around her ankles. McAllister was having a bit too much fun digging his knife into her arms, thighs, and legs. He had a fire going in the fireplace and every so often, he would set the bright red iron rod onto the soles of her feet and watch as her body curled upwards in a scream while she tried to pull away.

He set the iron back into the fire after pressing it against her waist. He watched her chest heave up and down with each shaky intake of breath, a small whimper escaping her with each hitch of her sobs. He bent down, pushing her legs apart to the limit of the chains, and set himself between her thighs. At first a look of confusion crossed though Lisbon's face before realization struck and she started to squirm away. He curled his fingers around her waist, pulling her sharply towards him to give him a better reach in stripping her. He took his knife, slicing up the shirt and leaving it in tatters. He didn't care if his knife sliced her skin in the process.

She fought helplessly, her wrists digging into the handcuffs, drawing blood with each pull she made. As for her legs, she tried to get a good angle to kick him, but was held down uselessly by the chains cutting into her ankles. Tears raced down her face as her heart thundered in her chest.

He gleamed at her evilly, his hands trailing across her torso, scraping harshly when his hands travelled over her stomach. He moved lower, unhooking her jeans before pushing them down under her knees. He quickly released himself from his jeans, burying himself harshly into her. She still struggled to fight, screaming out at the top of her lungs until her voice cracked from strain. He moved forcefully and violently, and with every thrust he ripped more of her walls. He continued until all that was left was blood mixed with his fluid. He restored his jeans, before sliding hers back on hers in a mocking smirk. He left the room, leaving her momentarily as she sobbed silently. When he returned, he had a portable tattoo needle. He set it down beside the left side of her body. He picked up the needle, flipping on the machine, and dipping the needle in red ink. While the machine roared in Lisbon's ear, McAllister dug the needle further than the second layer of skin over her left breast and tattooed his mark.

Once he finished, he threw a thin sheet over her chest, picked up the iron, and dug it 5 inches into Lisbon's side so quickly that the hot iron cauterized the wound he made. He left the iron sticking out of her, kissed her head with a whisper, "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere, and don't miss me too much."

He walked out of the house and into his car with Lisbon's screams ringing in his mind.

XXXXXX

It was three hours after McAllister drove off that Lisbon heard an engine rumbling up the gravel. **_Oh, god._** She sobbed softly, **_Please don't let it be McAllister. Don't let him be back. Don't let that be him._**

Her chest trembled from the cold, the fire having since died out, the iron clattering softly with every motion she made. Her body ached and hurt everywhere. Her heart started its thunderous beating once more as she followed the steps echoing from downstairs. She blinked fiercely in fear against the bright light, but her fears melted away when she heard the familiar voice of Jane calling out to her, "Lisbon!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

 **Again I would like to apologize for the previous chapter. It hurt me to write the scene but it was a necessary evil that had to happen. I'm sorry if I caused any trouble for any of you, and I want to thank you for sticking for the rest.**

 **Thank you, and I'm sorry.**

* * *

Chapter 6

"Jane?" Lisbon whispered, blinking against the spots that appeared in her vision after the flashlight was moved.

Jane raced to her side, his hands trembling softly as he hesitated in pushing back her hair. He tried to asses the scene before him, but all that raced through his brain was her name, over and over again. He uncuffed her arms, then unchained her ankles, before picking her up as gently as he could and carried her out of the house and into the car. She clung onto him tightly, desperately, her tears falling with each tremble and quake of her body.

Jane set her down in the passenger seat, sat in his seat, and drove her as fast as he could away from the house and towards the hospital. He carried her in, and watched helplessly as the nurses wheel her away from him and into the operating room.

XXXXXX

It was hours after the surgery. Lisbon was asleep, bandages wrapped around almost every part of her body, an IV was flooding her bloodstream with Ibuprofen in a safe dose, and Jane was sitting down next to her. Her hand was nestled softly between his, while he took in her sleeping face. He felt anger. Anger that he couldn't protect her. Anger that she was taken from him right under his nose. Anger at all of the pain she had to suffer through because of him.

He planted a soft kiss on the top of her hand, mindful that he didn't disturb the IV sticking out. Paying attention to the small reflexive twitches of her hand and the slight shifts under her eyelids, He counted on the clock how much time he had left till she woke up.

The minute the movements became erratic, he reached out, cupping her cheek softly, rubbing soft calming circles on her skin.

Her eyes snapped open in fear, barely registering Jane's touch until her eyes focused on his face illuminated by the hospital lights. Only by taking deeper breaths did she realize how fast her heart was beating within her chest. She felt a radiating pain awake throughout her body and noticed the silent tears that were falling rebelliously across her cheeks.

"Hey," Jane spoke softly, focusing on Lisbon's shining eyes, and trying hard not to notice how small and vulnerable she looked in that hospital bed.

"You found me." She whispered, a small smile curling up the corner of her mouth.

"Of course." He smirked, teasing her to try to make her smile.

"It took you long enough," She smiled back, teasing him, "I was starting to worry."

"Did you really think I wasn't going to look for you?"

"I never doubted for a moment that you would look for me."

"Good, because I was never going to stop until I found you."

She beamed at him, holding onto his hand as if it was a lifeline anchoring her to him, to safety.

The inevitable question escaped her lips after a long while of just silence.

"How bad is it?"

Jane couldn't stop himself from looking away from her face and onto her hand in his. He knew that if he looked into her eyes, he'd tell her the truth. He knew that if he looked at her, he won't be able to stop himself from losing all of the willpower that kept him from shattering into pieces.

Lisbon moved her hand from his, cupping his cheek. She made him look at him. She wanted the truth, no matter what. She gave him a soft smile, trying to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. Telling him without speaking, that they can face anything together.

Jane took a deep sigh before taking her hand for strength. He planted a soft kiss on the palm of her hand, before opening his mouth to speak.

"You had lost plenty of fluids and blood. That was one of the major concerns during surgery. The other was the poker that your skin melted onto. You had third degree burns on your abdominal and feet. Lacerations with a mild infection on your legs and back. You had glass embedded in your back and in your hair."

Lisbon nodded softly as he told her this, blinking to keep her tears and the memories at bay. She continued to look at him, waiting until he brought up the topic.

"The baby." Jane looked at her trying to gauge her reactions. "The baby survived, though there might be a couple of complications down the road, they said that the baby's okay."

"What kind of complications?"

"The possibility of a premature birth is very high."

Again, she nodded, looking down at the foot of the bed where a couple of balloons and bags stood. From her distance, she could read the names scratched on the labels from her coworkers.

"How much do they know?"

He followed her eyes towards the bags, looking down at their hands again before meeting her eyes. "Just that you were kidnapped and I found you."

"Do they know about Red John being alive?"

"Only Cho."

"Do they know about-" She couldn't bring herself to mention their relationship, or whatever it was. She couldn't bring herself to mention about their baby.

"No." He answered, sensing the direction of where her question was heading. "They don't know about us or the baby."

"What are we going to do?"

"About?"

"The child." Lisbon sat up, wincing softly as her side pulled on the stitches. "It just became completely more difficult to bring it into this world. Red John could be out there. He knew about us, he knew about the baby. What else could he know about that we don't?"

"Teresa, Red John controlled our lives before," He told her softly, "and we still found him. No matter what he does, no matter what he knows, we will always find him, and this time, I'm going to make sure he really does die."

Lisbon nodded, smiling softly.

"He isn't going to stop us from raising our child." He smiled back at her, "He isn't going to stop us from keeping each other safe. I messed up the first time. We weren't expecting the first attack, but now, he can't surprise us."


End file.
